


Make Me

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dorian acts out when he needs Bull to help ground him again. Bull is only too happy help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me

**Author's Note:**

> I am a filthy sinner who writes porn for my friends, who are also filthy sinners.

Bull closed his hand around Dorian’s arm, rubbing his thumb over the inside of his wrist, and over the leather bracelet Dorian was wearing. Bull hadn’t been surprised to find Dorian wearing it when he had come down to the tavern; Dorian had clearly been angling for a punishment all day.

 

He had stood Bull up for lunch, and rolled his eyes when Bull had comes to ask him about why, even throwing in the sort of harsh insults Dorian hadn’t used since the first month or so of their acquaintance. Bull might have taken it more personally if he hadn’t been able to see that Dorian was on edge, and guessed that he was going to want some relief later.

 

Even later, when he had actually shown up, he had been dismissive and rude; leaving to get a drink while Bull was talking to him, totally ignoring Bull in favour in other people, and making soft noises, just loud enough to be heard by the others, whenever Bull said anything to anyone else.

 

Bull shifted his hand to cover the bracelet and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Dorian wearing it was a pre-agreed sign between the two of them of the sort of scene Dorian was hoping for, but Bull still wanted to check in.

 

Bull caught Dorian’s eye, made a pointed look at down at where his hand was covering, and then back up at Dorian. Dorian gave a very tiny nod, raising his chin, and returned his attention back to flirting outrageously with Stitches. Bull wasn’t a jealous man, and he knew Dorian was trying to get a rise out of him, but he was more than happy to give Dorian what he wanted.

 

He gave a low growl in his chest, the rumble just loud enough for Dorian to hear, and tightened his grip beyond comforting and into painful. Dorian snapped his attention back to Bull, making an ineffective effort to pull his hand back.

  
“Go upstairs, and wait in my room for me.” Bull leaned close to Dorian, forcing Dorian to tilt his head back to maintain eye-contact.

 

Dorian’s jaw tightened. “And if I don’t?” he asked.

 

“You don’t want to find out. Go.” Dorian didn’t move. “ _Now_ ,” Bull added, in a voice that didn’t encourage argument.

 

Dorian tugged his hand back and threw himself out of the chair, storming from the room. He didn’t look back at Bull.

 

Dalish gave a low whistle, and Krem chuckled.

 

“What did you say to get his knickers in such a twist?” Krem asked.

 

Bull gave an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows and climbed to his feet, saying goodnight and following after Dorian. He took the longer way back to his room and moved slowly, giving Dorian some time to stew in anticipation, and himself sometime to plan how he was going to punish Dorian.

 

The punishments, like so much of their play, was very much about what Dorian needed, and Dorian tended to seek this sort of play when he was feeling anxious about his self-worth. He desired the opportunity to have his mistakes forgiven in a very tangible way.

 

Dorian was sitting on the bed when Bull came in, his boots carelessly abandoned right in front of the door, his over-robe thrown on top of the desk, scattering the papers resting there, the remainder of his clothes unbuckled and hanging off his body. He scowled at Bull when he entered.

 

“You’ve been kind of a shit today,” Bull said conversationally. He picked up Dorian’s boots and placed them neatly to the side of the door, and then leaned down to pull off his own and line them up with Dorian’s.

 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Dorian said, picking on his nails as if uninterested, but Bull could see the tell-tale rise and fall of Dorian’s chest, the fluttering of his pulse at his neck.

 

“Well, I have.” Bull shrugged off his harness, hanging it on a hook. He collected a pair of leather handcuffs before moving to stand at the end of the bed, towering over Dorian. “You’ve been rude, didn’t apologise for standing me up, flirted right in front of me, and are acting like you’re too good to bother with me.”

 

Dorian set his jaw.

 

“Are you sorry?” Bull asked.

 

Dorian sneered. “No.”

 

“I see.”

 

“What are you going to do about it?” Dorian asked. He leant forward, challenging Bull. His eyes were dark with lust, and he looked ready to put up with a fight.

 

“Take off your clothes,” Bull said.

 

“Make me.”

 

It was what Bull had been waiting for and he lounged, grabbing Dorian by the open front of his clothes, hauling him close. He shifted his grip to Dorian’s skin, and pulled off the tunic, tossing it to the side.

 

Dorian struggled in Bull’s grip, but not enough to give Bull any real challenge in flipping Dorian onto his front, cuffing his hands behind his back. With that done it was all too easy to strip Dorian of his trousers and manoeuvre him so he was kneeling over Bull’s lap, arse high in the air. Bull used one of his hands to hold Dorian’s neck to the bed, keeping him in position.

 

“I’m going to spank you,” he casually informed him. “To punish you for being disrespectful, and hopefully to prevent you from doing it again.”

 

Dorian tried to shift so he could knee Bull’s side unsuccessfully. Bull didn’t fail to notice that when he resettled the arch of his spine was even greater, raising his arse even higher.

 

“Would you like my hand or a paddle?”

 

“Fuck you,” Dorian spat, squirming in his grip. Bull sighed, and ran a hand over Dorian’s thighs and up over the curve of his arse. If Dorian felt he had to fight, Bull wasn’t going to complain; he knew his watch word.

 

“I want you to count these out loud,” Bull informed Dorian. He barely gave him any time to process the order before he brought his hand down sharply across Dorian’s left cheek.

 

Dorian groaned, muscles in his legs and arse tightening and then releasing. Bull’s hand hovered in the air, giving Dorian plenty of time to respond, but Dorian said nothing.

 

“Dorian. That’s one.” He brought his hand down again, on the other cheek, hard enough to hurt, but not the hardest he would inflict that night, once he had warmed Dorian up. “That’s two, count them.”

 

Dorian hissed through his teeth, but made no other sound. Bull frowned.

 

He brought his hand down several more times, and Dorian made small noises after each hit, but refused to count the strikes. Bull paused at ten, rubbing at Dorian’s skin to give him time to adjust, but Dorian seemed unwilling to take him up on the offer.

 

“Come _on_ ,” Dorian spat out between gasps. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

 

Bull brought his hand down three times in quick succession in retaliation, and Dorian let out a low, aroused groan. His skin was getting pleasingly red, and Bull had no intention of stopping until Dorian had a bruise that would ache for days.

 

“How many is that?” Bull asked,

 

“Some punishment, my nannies used to spank me harder as a child.”

 

Bull’s hand came down again, harder than at any point this evening, and Dorian actually cried out.

 

“I don’t appreciate the backtalk.”

 

“Then hit me properly!” Dorian snarled. He curved his back, pushing his arse into Bull’s hand. His cock was leaking, the pre-come dripping from the slit to land on Bull’s thigh.

 

“This is your last warning Dorian,” Bull said, gripping a handful of reddened flesh hard enough to get a wince in response. “Any more of this, and you’ll make it worse for yourself.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Dorian hissed out, struggling feebly. “Come on, you savage, show me what you’ve got.”

 

Abruptly, Bull deposited Dorian on the bed next to him, and stood up, walking over to their chest of toys. He could hear Dorian shifting behind him, and feel Dorian’s eyes on his back, but he paid him no mind as he pulled out what he was searching for. He crossed the room, and sat back down next to Dorian, grinning as Dorian tried to catch sight of what was in Bull’s hands.

 

Bull grabbed a handful of Dorian’s hair, and forced the ball gag against his mouth. Dorian struggled, and snapped at Bull’s fingers, but didn’t put up enough of a fight to actually cause Bull any real problems. Bull finally got the red ball between Dorian’s teeth, and pulled the straps back to buckle it behind his head.

 

Dorian glared at him in silent rage.

 

They’d used gags before, and Dorian had proven to be very responsive to them, so Bull wasn’t overly worried, but he still broke the scene to check in, pressing a smell bell into Dorian’s hand and making sure Dorian had a good grip on it. Satisfied, he kissed Dorian’s cheek, just above the strap. “This all right, sweetheart?” He asked. He ran a hand through Dorian’s hair, searching Dorian’s face for any sign of discomfort.

 

Dorian’s eyes were dark with lust, and were becoming hooded as he slowly fell into his subspace. He nodded at Bull, struggling to smile around the gag.

 

The moment passed, and they were back in the scene.

 

“Right,” Bull said, arranging Dorian back over his lap. “If you can’t be trusted to talk respectfully, I’ll take that right away from you. Now, we can continue.”

 

Dorian’s arse reddened beautifully as Bull continued to spank him, and Bull knew the purple bruises that would be there tomorrow would be even prettier. Dorian always looked so lovely marked up, and the way Dorian preened when hiding evidence of their time together made them all the better as far as Bull was concerned.

 

The only thing as gorgeous as Dorian covered in bruises was Dorian begging Bull to give them to him.

 

Admittedly, Dorian wasn’t begging now, at least not in a traditional sense, but unless he used his watch word, or in this case, shook the bell, then Dorian’s struggling was just another way of begging for more.

 

Dorian squirmed under Bull, making pained sounds around the gag with each hit, and even when Bull gave him a short rest his breathing was hitched as he fought back tears. His cock was straining, and he made a few aborted attempts to find something to rut against.

 

“How are you feeling there?” Bull asked, hand resting on the heated flesh of Dorian’s behind. “Ready to apologise?”

 

Dorian snarled, and Bull even saw a hint of teeth from under Dorian’s plump lips. Bull reached down and ran one finger along where Dorian’s lips met the gag, teasing into his mouth ever so slightly, and Dorian’s teeth tightened around the gag. Bull knew he was being cruel; there was nothing Dorian liked more than sucking on Bull’s fingers.

 

He withdrew his finger and returned to the task at hand.

 

Dorian’s sass was now impossible, and was now replaced with stifled, yet still insolent groans. It wasn’t lasting however, and each hit broke down just a little more of Dorian’s defiance.

 

“If you behave like a brat, don’t be surprised when people treat you like one,” Bull said. His own hand was starting to sting, and he could only imagine how much worse Dorian’s arse felt. Dorian was starting to sniffle, tears leaking from his eyes, the fight starting to leave him, and Bull doubted it would last much longer.

 

He was careful to see that he didn’t hit too hard, but also that he covered every inch of Dorian’s skin, slowly reducing Dorian down to total submission. Dorian was drooling around the gag, making muffled, desperate noises with each hit and crying in abundance, cock rock hard, arse the sort of bright red that Bull might find on the stripes of his trousers.

 

“Are you sorry, Dorian?” Bull asked.

 

Dorian made a small huffing noise, neither confirmation nor denial, and Bull brought his hand down for one final time. Bull winced in sympathy as Dorian let out a strangled scream.

 

“Are you sorry?” Bull asked again, voice firmer and authoritative.

 

Dorian nodded his head frantically against the bed, tears and snot running down his face onto the sheets. He was opening and closing the hand not holding the bell, and Bull reached out to take it, squeezing Dorian’s fingers in a brief moment of comfort.

  
Dorian gave a hitched sob in response, and Bull found himself making soothing noises. He carefully untied Dorian’s wrists, and then unbuckled the gag, pulling it away and stroking the man’s jaw with his thumb.

 

“Please, please, I’m sorry,” Dorian blurted out the second the gag was off his mouth. “I’m sorry, _please_.” He was still chanting when Bull gave him what he wanted and grabbed his cock, and swiftly brought Dorian over the edge. Dorian collapsed over Bull’s lap, chest heaving and body shivering. Bull untucked one of the corners of the sheets and used it to carefully clean Dorian’s face; he was going to have to change them tomorrow morning anyway.

 

Dorian sniffed, fresh tears still pooling at the corner of his eyes, but he looked far better having less of his own spit and snot on his face. Bull pulled Dorian up into his lap, hugging him close, and running a hand up and down his back.

 

Dorian had never been a pretty crier, and he had hated crying in front of Bull at first; they’d come so far that Dorian would let Bull clean his face for him.

 

“It’s all right, you’re good, you did so good, my perfect little mage,” he whispered into Dorian’s hair, noting the small, happy sighs Dorian made at the praise. Dorian wrapped his arms around Bull’s neck, pulling in shuddering breaths, resting his head on Bull’s shoulder. They were quiet except for Bull’s continued praise and pampering, which continued until Dorian’s crying had mostly subsided.

 

Bull reached for a blanket far enough away that it was still clean and wrapped it around Dorian’s shoulders. It was thick and heavy, and Dorian burrowed into it, tucking his head down so the top so the blanket was up around his ears.

 

“You all right, Kadan?” Bull asked. He cupped Dorian’s cheek and raised his head so he could get a proper look at Dorian’s face.

 

“Yes,” Dorian replied. “Perfect. Thank you.”

 

“You did well, taking your punishment.” Bull kissed the very tip of Dorian’s nose.

 

“You forgive me? For being a brat today?” Dorian asked. He took a long breath; there was still a slight shudder to it, but that was to be expected.

 

“Yes, I forgive you.”

 

Dorian let out a very soft, relieved sob, and tucked his face back into Bull’s shoulder. He sniffled softly, while Bull continued to hold, rubbing up and down his back.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said, voice muffled by Bull’s shoulder. It was something Dorian did a lot now, say something softly enough that he could pretend he hadn’t meant for Bull to hear it, despite knowing how good Bull’s hearing was. It was progress from how things had started out.

 

“Hey, none of that. You took your punishment, it’s all forgiven. You hear me?”

 

Dorian looked up. He was smiling, actually smiling, through the red eyes and wet cheeks. “I do. After all, what could I have to be sorry about, have you met me? I’m glorious.”

 

Bull chucked, giving Dorian a very, very gentle tap on his arse. Dorian’s breath hitched at the touch, but he smirked at Bull all the same.

 

“I’m going to get something to rub into that, see if we can prevent some of the bruising.”

 

“I want it to bruise,” Dorian said, pouting ever so slightly.

 

“You say that now,” Bull said with a chuckle, standing to get the salve. Dorian settled down on the bed and lay obediently on his front while Bull rubbed the cool cream in as gently as he could, noticing how Dorian tensed under even the softest touch.

 

“You want to tell me what brought this on?” Bull asked as he worked. Dorian’s arse was already starting to colour, and Bull was sure tomorrow would be a day spent mostly in bed, Dorian on his front, complaining about how sore he was, pretending he didn’t love it, and having Bull bend to his every whim. Bull certainly wasn’t going to complain; it had taken a lot of work to get Dorian to a point where he was comfortable admitting he needed taking care of.

 

“Nothing unusual,” Dorian said, voice already thick with sleep. “I made a foolish mistake in my research, and lost a few days’ work because of it. That led to some unkind self-evaluation. You make all that go away though, helped me forgive myself.”

 

Bull smiled, bending to press a kiss into Dorian’s ruined hair. He placed the salve on the bedside table and lay down beside Dorian, pulling him back up against him. Dorian hummed in approval.

 

“I liked the gag,” Dorian said into Bull’s shoulder. “I couldn’t seem to stop talking, but I wanted to.”

 

“It’s something we can explore more if you’d like?” Bull certainly wasn’t going to complain. Dorian in a gag was a sight to behold, be it stretched around a ball, sucking a dildo, or biting at a bit.

 

Dorian hummed again. “I’d like that. It may have escaped your attention but I may, on occasion, talk too much.”

  
Bull’s laughter filled the room, and Dorian even raised his head to grin at him.


End file.
